Loneliness
by Aquarius Seth
Summary: Kain's private musing of his fears and emotions.


"Legacy of Kain" Speculative Fiction

Owned by Denis Dyack (Blood Omen) and Amy Hennig (Soul Reaver, SR2 and Defiance)

Title: Loneliness

Written by Aquarius Seth

Word Count: 1,080

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. Mr. Dyack owns all the characters in Blood Omen. Amy Hennig owns Raziel and his siblings and used Mr. Dyack's characters with Mr. Dyack's knowledge and permission. Production companies with all the rights are Silicon Knights, Crystal Dynamics an Edios Interactive. I know Mr. Richard Lemarcharnd has a huge say in these character's existence so I think it's only fair to drop his name somewhere. I hope I didn't forget anyone's name but if I did I apologize in advance. By the way, I am not making any money off of this, I'm just keeping sane and busy thank you!

A/N: This is my first publishing attempt at any LoK stuff. I actually have a few in the works but they've taken a back seat to my other stuff. If you look me up, you'll see I've published a few "House, MD" pieces but I've decided to expand my horizons and this is my first stab at fresh meat. If you've dropped by from my "House, MD" stuff don't worry you'll hopefully have new stories to read in January. Thanks. As always I want readers to read and review so please feel free to do so! Again thank you!

Rating: I will rate this as a rated M just to be safe; even though it might pass as an NC-17 I don't think the FF people gave writers that option. If even slightly slash-y story lines bother you please don't read this but thank you for dropping by!

_(Kain)_

My beloved Raziel has now entered the Reaver and I have never before felt the isolation that comes with being the Scion of Balance.

I have always had some sort of vampire brethren wandering Nosgoth's landscape with me. Now, now I feel the solidarity.

I should be comforted with the knowledge that Raziel will forever be with me but I am not. How am I supposed to accept the knowledge that my first born is truly my 'right hand'?

Raziel's final words are permanently etched in my memory. The rushed desperation in his tone haunts my dreams. Even during the all-consuming senses overload of drinking blood, does not block his voice from my thoughts. My beloved child is always there, always just a dream away.

I am truly guideless now. I can no longer sense Ariel's spirit near the ruins of Nosgoth's Pillars. I know Vorador has been executed by now; our paths will no longer cross on this plane. I actually mourn these loses more acutely than I have ever imagined I would.

How could I have forgotten the cruelty of loneliness so quickly?

My eyes fall shut and I felt my body tense ever so briefly as that thought came forward.

Wasn't my loneliness the reason I created Raziel in the first place? Even though I caught the briefest snippet of prophecy from Mortaniaus, I still sired my first fledgling and the other five of his siblings out of need?

I cursed the need to not be alone. I smiled bitterly at the idea of the Scion of Balance, the axis of the vampire council-succumbing to such a human weakness. Fate has its fair share of ironies.

I wonder if I could have been brave enough to stop myself from creating my sons. Even if I don't fully understand the torment I subjected my eldest son to, I know I loved him.

I loved him for his defiance, his quick wit, his ability to master ne skills so quickly and his keen understanding of me. For at least a century I had Raziel to myself. I did not share him with anyone but I had developed a new gift during that time and I could not bestow him with it.

It was my damnable human nature that urged me to protect myself. I knew that bestowing all of one's powers to the same person would in fact, make that person more difficult to defeat.

Besides I have always had a soft spot for Raziel. Anyone that knows me knows that. Even god-damned Moebuis knew that. Damned human emotion, I can't even blame that on my heart. My heart isn't mine. It is literally Janos Aldroun's heart.

I have vexed the Goddess of Fate.

I smiled knowing that I am holding my own in this odd game we're playing. Who knows I might come out even?

I reach up behind me and slide the Reaver free from its strap. I noticed a faint but constant blue glow from the hilt and the skull that sets the hilt and the blade together. For the first time in centuries, I studied Vorador's craftsmanship. Breathtaking now that I understand its true purpose.

With a new found reverence, I gently press my lips to the skull and tightened my other hand on the actual blade. A strong crisp and oddly satisfying sensation rushes up my hand as the curved but ever sharp edge cuts my palm.

I felt my cold blood pool in my slightly warmer hand. I watched as crimson drops slid out from in between my fingers and continue to streak paths down my clinched fingers.

The faint odor of old blood reaches my nose as I felt my wound itch and burn with its healing process. I ignore that mundane process and instead focus on the sword.

I released the blade and noticed that my blood had turned into a weathered, faded brick color. Before I can get myself to touch it; it almost instantly pulled onto itself, until it was only a tiny needle point size drop and then, poof, it was gone.

It might have been the fevered wishes of an old desperate soul, but I could have sworn, I felt the sword warm up ever so slightly.

The faintest trace of a smile crossed my lips.

Human weakness or not, I was not alone. I felt warm sensation ebb through my nearly glacial "heart."

Raziel was at my side and as long as these aging lungs still drew a single breath that is where he will remain.

I leapt off the Vampire Citadel's balcony and resolutely made my way back towards the tattered remains of my birthright. Heaven help the fools that get in my way.

The End.


End file.
